


A Joyful Noise

by thinlizzy2



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Engagement, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Marriage Proposal, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-08 12:20:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15930311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinlizzy2/pseuds/thinlizzy2
Summary: “It’s for the good of humanity, Ann.”  Leslie’s voice was a little shaky but strong nonetheless, and Ann didn’t have the slightest doubt in her mind that Leslie had rewritten and rehearsed this proposal endless times before this moment.  “The world needs us to be together.  We have so much good to do, and we need to be together to do it.  And I’m so happy about that, because I love you. "Ann's always been the quiet type.  Leslie never has.  Nonetheless, they make it work.





	A Joyful Noise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Attachments](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2600258) by [Missy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy). 
  * Inspired by [Attachments](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2600258) by [Missy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy). 



Ann Perkins had always been the quiet sort, ever since she was a child. All of her old report cards could testify to that. _Sweet and quiet_ , from her kindergarten teacher. _Well behaved and quiet_ , by the time she had started middle school. _Quiet, but beautiful_ , all too often from her freshman English teacher, until her mother had marched down to the school to sort him out. And the pattern had continued well into adulthood. All of her assessments from her nursing supervisors described her as competent, hard-working and, most of all, _quiet_. 

 

So perhaps it was bizarre that she would fall in love with Leslie Knope, a wild storm made up of bright blonde hair, flashing eyes and teeth, fierce determination and, above all else, noise. The air around Leslie was constantly filled with sound: genuine laughter, barked commands, and a burbling waterfall of thoughts, dreams and plans all in the process of being formed and given voice at the exact same time. Leslie hummed when she worked, sang off-key in the shower at the top of her lungs, and practiced future campaign speeches while she did her housework. She moaned and sighed and yelled all at once as she came. Leslie was a force of nature, a human hurricane and a living cacophony of sound. She was the last person on Earth who Ann Perkins should have been best friends with, let alone given her heart and soul to. 

 

But really, how could she have stopped herself?

***

It had started, of course, over waffles. Ann didn’t normally eat waffles; she wasn’t opposed to carbs on principle but she believed in getting the most nutritional value possible from her calories. So it was usually steel cut oats, whole grain toast and buckwheat noodles for her. But Leslie had looked so damn proud of the plates piled high with sugary golden-brown pastry and fluffy whipped cream, like she'd played a role in bringing their beauty into the world just by ordering them. And then she’d beamed up at Ann and declared that she’d got fruit on the waffles, especially for her, just because she knew that Ann liked it. So Ann had smiled, genuinely touched, and laid a napkin across her lap.

 

The forks had clinked and scraped over the plates, background noise to Leslie’s excited chatter about the upcoming Harvest Festival. But Ann hadn’t been able to concentrate on any of it. Instead, all of her attention had been taken up by a spreading warmth in her chest, a sensation that had become more and more familiar ever since she met Leslie. Then she somehow managed to accidentally scoop up a bite of food that incorporated a Utopian mix of waffle, cream, syrup and a perfectly ripe strawberry. She couldn’t help but close her eyes and even moan a bit in pleasure. 

 

The sudden and unexpected silence made her open them again. Leslie was watching her intently, her eyes wide and soft. The lack of words made Ann oddly nervous; she laughed a little and dabbed at her face with a napkin. “What is it? Do I have chocolate sauce on my nose?” 

 

Leslie had just shaken her head in response. “No. You’re perfect. It’s just great to see you enjoying something so much.” 

 

Then Ann had needed to put her fork down and push her (admittedly delicious) waffle away. Because she’d had to kiss Leslie – no choice in the world - right there over her desk with all her Harvest Festival notes and her Pawnee souvenirs and her pictures of the two of them together in proud display. And then there had been another moment of terrifying quiet before Leslie had grabbed her and kissed her back with a strength and a passion that shouldn’t have been the least bit surprising, all things considered. That had been followed by the sounds that had come tumbling out of Leslie’s mouth - _yes_ and _please_ and _finally, Ann! **fucking** finally!_ . And even though Ann hadn’t been able to find the words to say so, she had known in that moment that everything was going to be absolutely fine.

***

It was a moment she had reflected on many times over the last few years, but never so vividly as the evening when Leslie had come home hours later than usual, with her blazer speckled with mud and the legs of her pants soaked from the knees to the ankles. Her girlfriend had been an absolute mess but beaming proudly as she handed Ann the handpicked bouquet that was clearly responsible for both the delay and Leslie’s ruined clothes. Ann had buried her face in the wildflowers, breathing in their scents and admiring the charming mix of colors and shapes.

 

Her previous lovers had usually brought her white roses – simple and pretty flowers available from any florist in the world. They’d always looked nice enough in any room of her neutrally decorated house. But now her tasteful décor had been mixed and mingled with Leslie’s wild hodgepodge of knick-knacks and keepsakes, and so this imperfectly beautiful arrangement would look entirely perfect in the home they shared. She filled a vase with water and turned around, mentally searching for the words to explain how touched she was. 

 

Only to be struck even more speechless than usual. 

 

Because Leslie Knope was on her knees in the middle of the kitchen floor, her muddy pants leaving dark smudges on the boring gray tiles that Ann had picked out before they’d met. And she was holding a little velvet box containing one of the most colorful rings Ann had ever seen in her life – a stunning gemstone flower made of hot pink and glowing neon blue - and talking a mile a minute in the most perfect, glorious, Leslie Knope-ish way imaginable and it was all Ann could do to listen to the cascade of words while she tried to commit every single detail to memory. 

 

“It’s for the good of humanity, Ann.” Leslie’s voice was a little shaky but strong nonetheless, and Ann didn’t have the slightest doubt in her mind that Leslie had rewritten and rehearsed this proposal endless times before this moment. “The world needs us to be together. We have so much good to do, and we need to be together to do it. And I’m so happy about that, because I love you. I love you and I like you and I adore you, and I couldn’t live with myself if I let someone so perfect get away. So say, you’ll marry me, please, because if you don’t-mmph!” 

 

It was a beautiful speech but Ann couldn’t possibly have waited one more moment to kiss Leslie. Not even if it meant cutting off the flow of painstakingly chosen words. 

 

She got to hear the rest of the proposal later as they lay in bed. Leslie rested her head on Ann’s chest and told her all the pretty, perfect things she’s planned to say, her voice fading out a bit as she yawned and nodded, but speaking nonetheless up until her last waking moment. Ann held her close, struck dumb by the sight of her engagement ring contrasting perfectly with Leslie’s golden hair. She’d never seen gemstones like these before - Leslie would identify them as tourmalines in the morning and regale Ann with the story of how she had chosen them herself for the ring that she'd personally designed – and they were nothing that she ever would have imagined herself wearing. Whenever she’d thought abut an engagement ring she’d pictured a small but flawless colorless diamond solitaire, probably round and set in white gold. It would have been simple and tasteful and quiet, a perfect match for the sensible and almost anonymous man that would have given it to her. 

 

She looked down at the stunning rainbow on her hand and the glorious woman in her arms and gave a silent prayer of gratitude for all the things she’d been wrong about.


End file.
